Hell Bent: personal holloway
by dreamsindigital
Summary: AU Taichi's POV.. really angsty.. kinda the thoughts that were going through my head at the time.. R/R please!


Title: Hell Bent chapter 1: personal holloway

Author: Trinity ~dreams_in_digital~

Rating: R for.. stuff.. ^^; though it was written by somebody under 17 so I 

dunno.. ^^()

Dedication: for Reena , one of my best buddies, and Lys, one of my sistahs 

^_^ and Kate (digitally obsessed) , like always, my in real life and online 

twin!! woohoo, this is for y'all chiquitas! ok..

Song(s): Hell Bent' is by Kenna, personal holloway' and straight no 

chaser' are by Bush off of their cd, Razorblade Suitcase. good songs.. go 

buy the cd ^_^... 

"Some satellites of pain can't always be ignored

It's all in the face of what we thought we knew before.."

"Straight no chaser" —Bush

I pulled out my keys, fumbled for the correct one in the dark, and tried to 

put it into the slot of the lock, but to no avail. I kept missing the damn 

hole. Key scratches made white scars in the dark forest green of my 

apartment complex's door. "Shit," I muttered to myself as I thought of the 

short middle-aged woman who dared call herself my landlady' yelling at 

me the next day about those very damned scratches. I breathed a sigh of 

relief tainted with anger as the key finally gave release and slid neatly into 

the lock. I turned it to the right and pushed on the door. Relieved to be at 

home; I didn't bother to turn on the lights. I checked the clock that was, 

for some unknown reason, a part of my microwave. The glowing red 

digits read 23:47. I had been putting extra hours in at the restaurant 

lately. No matter, it's not like I actually had anything to come home to. 

My job was my life. Of course, I still kept in contact with Hikari but that 

was all, and I didn't really talk to her that much anymore. Since she had 

"come out" about her sexuality and moved in with her girlfriend, Inoue 

Miyako, she had been shunned by our family. I guess traditional Japanese 

and new age philosophies don't mix. I threw an American tv dinner in my 

microwave and headed over to my computer. I logged in under my screen 

name, "lifeofbrian," and became the person everyone loved (online, that 

is). Brian, the 23 year old jovial American college student. If only real life 

were this easy to do. It was so easy to become someone else online. In 

real life, I was Yagami Taichi, 26 year old chef and owner of a restaurant. I 

was far from jovial. I was miserable. Hell, miserable was the 

understatement of the year. Nothing really was the cause of it, I was just 

a miserable man. I looked at the reflection of my face in the computer 

monitor's glass and saw someone I barely recognized. My once thick 

russet hair had lost its luster, and my cinnamon eyes had lost their spark. 

My skin was pallid, far from the healthy glow it once had. I was still 

handsome, but not close to what I could be. Of course, none of that 

mattered. I hadn't dated casually in three years; hadn't had a serious 

relationship since Mimi left me. Sure, the loneliness had led to casual sex, 

alcohol, and the occasional hit of weed, but my job was everything. I was 

an internationally famous chef and had even competed on the popular tv 

show, Iron Chef. I had three restaurants in Japan and was about to open 

my first in New York City. Why wasn't I happy, or even content? Who 

knew? I sure as hell didn't. I stumbled through the dark to the microwave 

and pulled out my tv dinner. Yum, various parts of a chicken processed, 

breaded, deep fried, and flash frozen using some ionic compound I had yet 

to learn. Also in my all American meal were some french fries and fried 

apples in a cinnamon sauce. Fried everything. Pigs, didn't they know that 

grease wasn't a necessity when it came to cooking? Excess.. everything 

was in excess for them. I threw away the polystyrene tray and box and 

headed to bed. 

I changed into my pajamas, a t-shirt and some boxers, and headed to the 

bathroom. It was now 24:48, as the clock radio beside my bed told me. I 

stood in front of the mirror, as I did every night, pulled up my shirt, and 

examined myself, another ritual. I pinched a finger full of skin from my 

stomach and swore that I felt individual fat cells lurking in there. I 

hurriedly opened my medicine cabinet and wrapped my fingers around the 

box of oral laxatives. I held the box in my hand for a second, feeling 

comfortable, and pulled them out of the cabinet. I leaned against the wall 

and slid down it until I felt the cold tiles underneath me. My mother 

would have said that it was unsanitary, but hell if I cared. I opened the 

box carefully and pulled out the little bottle of dibasic sodium phosphate, 

gazing through the clear solution that would lead the way to a better life. 

I paused briefly, this was as far as I had gone in the past week. It had 

started with holding the box, then opening it, and finally taking out the 

bottle inside. I pinched my skin again, feeling the fat hiding between the 

skin and the muscle. I looked at the bottle and slowly twisted the cap off. 

There was a small silver seal covering the top to the bottle; I ripped it off. 

I didn't need to read the directions, I had done so a thousand times before. 

Take diluted with water, follow with a glass of water, this product causes 

dehydration, blah. I downed the bottle and started my journey to 

purification. 

I woke up to my alarm at 5:30 the next morning. I got out of bed and 

immediately felt dizzy. My stomach felt almost like it was concave, 

imploding. Then I remembered the night before. Disgusted with myself, I 

headed to the kitchen and pulled some cold leftover pizza out of the 

fridge. Sitting down at the table, I munched on a slice feeling everything 

was okay again. If I only knew how wrong I was. I started on a second 

slice, but after the first bite I felt sickened by my gluttony. I was as bad as 

the Americans, I thought. I ran into the bathroom and stuck a finger 

down my throat. Throw up, I thought. There. Once, twice, until my 

stomach was again emptied of its contents. There. I brushed my teeth, 

took a shower, and put on my best suit. Work, the only "happy" thing in 

my life. Great.

Once at work, I didn't feel like being around food, so I let the head chefs 

take care of the customers. I sat down in my office and looked at the 

papers scattered on my untidy desk. The paper on top read, "Customer 

Complaint." This was not good. This was VERY not good. "Tanaka!" I 

called to my secretary. 

He rushed in quickly, and after pushing a hand through his thick black 

hair, he bowed and cried, "Yes, Yagami-san?"

"Send X'ian Li in here..." I paused when I saw Tanaka hesitate. "NOW!" I 

screamed at him. Tanaka bowed and left the room. I could feel the 

tension twisting the muscles in my shoulders into knots. I popped open 

the top of my handy bottle of aspirin, took three, and chewed them 

quickly. There was a knock at the door. "Enter," I commanded with as 

much sanity as I could muster. A short, beautiful Chinese woman entered 

the room and bowed. 

"O... Ohayo gozimasu, Yagami-san." She said nervously, pulling the hem 

of her skirt down subconsciously. 

"X'ian Li.. I've just received a customer complaint about you. This man 

said that you gave him bad service and that you were impolite towards 

him. This is inexcusable. Do you know what this means?" I gave her my 

best pissed off boss' stare with cold brown eyes. 

"But.. Yagami-san.. Bossu. He was.. he tried reach up my skirt!" She 

stammered, her almond shaped eyes widening, pleading forgiveness from 

me. She was intelligent, a hard worker, but her Japanese was bad and she 

was rebellious. 

"Wear pants." In two words, I managed to piss her off to her extreme. Her 

eyes narrowed into slits and she flipped her long shiny black hair over her 

shoulder in an act of annoyance. God, was I good at pissing people off. 

My only talent. 

"Yagami Taichi you ARE asshole, you know? If I wear pants, you fire me 

for dress code!" Her voice rose as she threw the diatribes at me one after 

the other. Her Japanese may have been bad, but she seemed to know 

every profane word in the book. (Did I mention that I had dated her?) 

She then stormed out of the room, slamming the door after her. 

I began writing a note of apology to the man who had violated her. 

After work I stopped by at the local bar, which I hadn't done in.....about 

two days. "Gimme a Sapporo," I told the bartender, glaring at him under a 

furrowed brow. He quickly pulled the amber colored beer from some ice 

and handed me a chilled glass. What a wimp. I hunched over the beer, 

not bothering with the glass. Pulling my fingers through my thick russet 

hair I leaned my head against the palms of my hands. Suddenly, I felt a 

presence beside me. Perfume. Great, a woman. In my peripheral vision I 

saw her flip her hair casually and then sit on the barstool next to mine. 

"Hey baby, you look like hell." Her voice was sugared. She had an Osakan 

accent, making her words sound more harsh than they were meant to be. 

"What a way to start a conversation," I said, looking up at her. 

Her hand flew to her mouth in surprise. "You.. you're Yagami Taichi, 

aren't you?" She stammered at me. 

"Yeah." I shrugged and turned back to my beer. 

"I'm Kourin." She bowed her head slightly. "Hajimashitte." 

I held out my hand and she backed away slightly. "Oh, sorry. I must have 

forgotten my manners." My voice was laced with sarcasm. I bowed my 

head slightly in return. Wouldn't she let me wallow in my misery alone? 

The bitch, I want her to go away. She began jabbering about some topic 

unknown to me. Well, maybe I would get what she was talking about if I 

was actually listening. Maybe she would get the picture and just leave me 

be. 

"... I'm hungry. Maybe you could take me out to dinner." She winked at 

me, her dark brown eyes shimmering defiantly. She was trying to get to 

me, how dare she. I put a yen note on the bar, picked up my coat and 

began to leave the bar. She trailed after me like a lost puppy. 

I was bewildered. The little witch picked one of the higher priced 

restaurants in town. Women are so strange. Men are so much simpler. As 

we sat down, food was immediately brought to us. For starters, a bowl of 

an onion broth, with dried shittake mushrooms floating in it. I lifted the 

bowl to my lips, slurping politely. I lost myself in food. Thank the kami 

that I had a high metabolism. Kourin interrupted my moment of bliss. 

"So.. how do you spend your time, Yagami-san?" She gazed up at me, her 

fingers entwined in her long dark brown hair. I grunted, setting down my 

now empty bowl on the table. 

"Well, owning and running a restaurant is kind of a full time job." 

She crinkled her nose indignantly and began some sort of retort, but was 

interrupted by our waiter once again. Bowls of rice and pickled vegetables 

were set out and I grabbed one immediately, wanting to avoid 

conversation with the little insolent bar-hopping slut. As a declaration of 

my repugnance, I poured soy sauce all over my rice, a gesture of extreme 

rudeness. I glared up at her, my dark eyes twinkling and a slight 

mischievous smile curving my lips. She pursed her plum coloured mouth 

and looked away, pretending not to notice. I stirred the soy sauce in with 

my chop sticks, hoping to make this a my worst date' experience. 

The dinner ended, and I motioned for her to pick up the bill. I glanced at 

the amount due, through my half of the money on the table and left the 

room. 

I didn't look back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


End file.
